was only then that Sophie recalled that the doctor was also handsome. Of course. Because when it rained it poured, and Sophie—who’d never held a handsome gentleman’s attention for longer than the half second it took for him to realize she was not the lady he sought—was bedridden and unwashed when saddled with two of them. She was doomed.
“Mrs. Matthew!” the surgeon said, all jolly humor. “I trust you had a good rest.”
She’d forgotten that they’d christened her with the name. “I seem to have, Doctor . . .” She paused. “I’m sorry, I’ve forgotten your name, sir.”
“I never gave it,” the doctor said simply, taking the tea from Mary with a dazzling smile. “Thank you.”
Mary blushed. “Of course, Doctor.”
Eversley snorted his irritation. Or was it something else? Could it be jealousy of the doctor’s effect on women? No. Eversley was exceedingly attractive himself.
Not that she noticed.
She’d have to like him to notice.
And she did not like him.
The doctor approached the bed and handed Sophie the cup of herbed tea. He waited for her to take a long drink before asking, “How do you feel?”
Vaguely, Sophie realized that the man still hadn’t shared his name. No one else in the room seemed to mind, however, so Sophie answered the question, keenly aware of the Marquess of Eversley’s watchful gaze. “Quite well.”
“Well. I’m sure that’s not true.” The doctor took the teacup from her and passed it back to Mary before seating himself on the bed and donning his spectacles. “So let’s have a look.”
She shrank back against the pillows, unable to think of anything but her odor. “I’d rather—”
He ignored her and put a hand to her forehead. “Excellent. No fever.” Before Sophie could enjoy the pronouncement, the surgeon added, “I’ve smelled worse, madam, I assure you.” He did not lower his voice, and the words boomed through the room.
Sophie went scarlet as Eversley looked to the ceiling in frustration. “Is that why you wouldn’t let me near you?”
“You’re the one who pointed out that I’d been doused in gin and honey,” she defended herself.
“To underscore his madness, not your stench!”
Mary’s mouth fell open.
Sophie imagined hers might have also, if she weren’t so angry. “My stench?” She glared at him.
He rocked back on his heels, as though considering his next move. “I did not mean—”
She’d had enough. “Of all the ungentlemanly things you’ve said to me, my lord—and there have been many—that might be the worst of the lot.”
He looked as though he wanted to say something, but refrained. Thankfully, because the doctor chose that precise moment to peel away the bandage, and Sophie yelped in pain.
Eversley stepped forward. “You hurt her.”
“Yes. I sensed that,” the doctor said without looking up from his work. “No signs of infection, however.”
Relief flooded Sophie. “Then I shall live?”
The doctor met her gaze. “For today.”
“Christ,” muttered Eversley. “You’re a comforting bastard, aren’t you?”
The doctor turned to him. “I tell the truth. No fever and no infection a day after the injury is positive. But medicine is more art than science. She might still die.” He returned his attention to Sophie. “You might still die.”
She did not know what to say, so she settled on “Oh.”
He extracted more tea from his bag and set it on the bedside table. “I wasn’t sure if you’d need more than a few days’ worth. But I’m feeling more hopeful.”
Sophie imagined that should make her feel more certain of her future. But on the heels of his other statement, she wasn’t entirely sure.
The doctor went on. “Continue with the tea—this blend will keep you more awake than the last—and be certain to keep the wound clean.” He set a pot of honey on the table next to the herbs and turned to Eversley. “The honey is essential. Apply after every bath.”
She might have argued that the assignment was given to the man who had become a rather prickly thorn in her side, but she was distracted by another, far more tempting word. “I may bathe?”
The doctor turned back to her. “Of course. Preferably daily, in clean, hot water. And summon me immediately if you begin to feel ill or if the wound changes appearance.”
That sounded as though they could not leave. “When can we leave?” Everyone looked to her, each person more shocked than the next.
“You are in possession of free will, Mrs. Matthew,” the doctor said. “However, I would hope to keep you nearby for at least a week.”
“A week,” she groaned. She had planned to be north